


The Sweetest Song

by mrstater



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adultery, F/M, Innuendo, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:25:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrstater/pseuds/mrstater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The Bear and the Maiden Fair" doesn't mean exactly what Dany thinks it means. Jorah educates her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Song

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [At Thy Pleasure Weave](https://archiveofourown.org/works/425051) by [mrstater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrstater/pseuds/mrstater). 



Daenerys had persuaded him to do all manner of foolish things in the secrecy of his tent--bed her, and wed her--but at this moment, the request Jorah was most glad to have caved to was to teach her the songs of the Seven Kingdoms.

 "You must sing me this one," she said, kneeling beside his sleeping mat facing him. The corner of the book he gave her for a bride's gift jabbed his hip as she opened it on her lap, the aged pages crinkling like autumn leaves as she thumbed through it.

He lifted his head slightly from where he reclined, fingers laced together behind his neck on the bundle of rags that served as his pillow, and made out the title with some difficulty from upside-down and in elaborate calligraphy that was far too much for _this_ song. He lay back with a grunt. 

"I'm surprised "The Bear and the Maiden Fair" made it into a book."

"Surprised? Why?"

"It's more a tavern bawdy than a fine example of Westerosi musicianship."

"A tavern what?"

Jorah raised his head again, perplexed by _her_ perplexity. Or perhaps she misheard? "Bawdy," he enunciated carefully. "As in, a lewd--"

"I know what bawdy means," Daenerys said with a huff not unlike her brother, though the pull of her eyebrows as she looked down at the song book was far more endearing. "What I don't understand is how it applies to this song. It's just silly nonsense about a bear and a blonde girl. And I thought--"

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and Jorah just glimpsed a flush on her cheek before her hair fell to hide her face as she leaned farther over the book. "It was a silly thought. I thought since your sigil is a bear and…well, my hair is more silver than honey, but--

Before Jorah could stop himself, a laugh rumbled out of his chest. He rocked to sit upright on his sleeping mat, drawing his knees up, and swept her hair back from her face as he cupped her chin so that he could meet her wide, innocent eyes.

 "That's not the sort of hair the song means, love," he said, not managing to keep the quiver of a chuckle out of his voice. "Nor the sort of honey."

Daenerys' forehead scrunched as her gaze dropped again to the book to re-read the words and try to decipher the meaning she had missed. Letting his hand trail down her cheek and neck and breast covered by her sandsilk bed robe, Jorah pulled the book from her lap and set it aside, then touched her knee, sliding his fingers beneath the robe and upward over her smooth bare thigh. When the tips reached the warm _V_  between her legs, Daenerys drew in a sharp breath, her lips forming an _O_ to match the rounding of her eyes in realization.

"He licked the honey from--"

"Her hair," Jorah murmured, and though she continued to peer up with uncertainty, her trust was evident in the way she lay back in the Pallet of skins and blankets as he lowered himself over her.

"Men pleasure their wives so in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"I thought bears were the subject of this discussion."

His beard scratched against the soft skin of her inner thigh as he nuzzled at her, coaxing her legs apart; coarse curls tickled his nose as she opened to him. He did not begin at once, but paused to peer over her mound and found Daenerys looking intently down the length of her body at him. Her stomach dipped inward and, realizing she was holding her breath, Jorah ran one hand up over her hip and slipped his fingers beneath the loose silk sash of her bed robe to rest on the bare valley of skin, stroking it. Her small hand covered his and he felt the swell of exhalation beneath his palm. He raised an eyebrow, and she answered with a nod, returning the smile he gave her as he bent his head to taste her.

One touch of his tongue made her belly retreat from his palm as she sucked in her breath. Her head fell back, her mouth opening, a squeal starting to push from her throat.

"Shh," Jorah reminded her, his breath making goosebumps prickle up on her leg against his cheek, ever mindful that she _must not_ be caught taking pleasure by a man other than her _khal_ , no matter that she called _him_ husband in her heart. He smiles as he returned to her, because she tasted of want.

Want for this…want for love…want for all he could give… _and for him_ …

Her fingernails carved half-circles into the hollows between his fingers as she dragged it up to her breast, and she bit her lip against a cry. She could not stop it, no more than he could stop doing what made her sigh, and kick, her heel driving into the ground for purchase as he brings her to the edge, so he pushed up to smother her cry with a kiss, the taste of her still sweet upon his lips.

When she finished shuddering against him and caught her breath, she said, "I'm afraid I must disagree with you, my love."

"Disagree?"

"I think "The Bear and the Maiden Fair" is a very fine example of Westerosi musicianship."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but before he could speak, she added, "And one I shall expect you to sing often."

 

 


End file.
